


Three Sparrows

by LizCarroll2612



Series: Holmes-Watson-Family [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Johnlockary - Freeform, Mary's Past, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 12:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3936586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizCarroll2612/pseuds/LizCarroll2612
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We get another glimpse into the life of the Holmes-Watson-Family and John and Sherlock get a little glimpse into Mary's past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Sparrows

**Author's Note:**

> It's not important that you understand the poem in the beginning. There is a sufficient summary in the story.  
> It's a poem by Christian Morgenstern, I'm pretty sure the copyright is expired.

"In einem leeren Haselstrauch,  
da sitzen drei Spatzen, Bauch an Bauch.  
Der Erich rechts und links der Franz  
und mittendrin der freche Hans.  
Sie haben die Augen zu, ganz zu,  
und obendrüber, da schneit es, hu!  
Sie rücken zusammen dicht, ganz dicht.  
So warm wie der Hans hat's niemand nicht.  
Sie hör'n alle drei ihrer Herzlein Gepoch.  
Und wenn sie nicht weg sind, so sitzen sie noch."

Mary recited while she was snuggling under the blanket.

"Nice poem... Very... Seasonal..." Sherlock said while his head appeared again from inside the old t-shirt he had just pulled over his head.

"Ok, I think we established again: I know more about you," John pointed at Sherlock. "Than I know about you!" he pointed at Mary. "I knew you knew German," he pointed at Sherlock. "I had no idea you did," pointing at Mary. "And we established again: You both have one more skill, I don't share. Care to let me in anyway?" John asked while he sat down on the side of the bed.

"It's about three sparrows, freezing in the winter. And they cuddle close together to keep each other warm and the one in the middle has the best place." Mary said. "I found that appropriate for tonight." Mary smiled content, since she had obviously occupied the middle of the bed.

They had spend the whole night following two suspects through a wintery, freezing London. They had spend hours sitting on a bench in front of a house to wait for them to come out again. They had come home to their warm flat just minutes ago and were still freezing.

Sherlock joined Mary in bed and put an arm around her . She cuddled against him, as far as her growing belly made that possible. Sherlock pulled the extra big blanket over them.  
"I know I said I didn't want to know about your past, but since this is not necessarily connected to the criminal part of your past: how do you know German? Even if I didn't understand it, that sounded pretty fluently."  
"Isn't this obvious?" Sherlock asked. "I already stated early on that her British accent is almost perfect, but that I assume from certain inaccuracies that its not original. I did not expect that not just the accent but maybe even the language might be practiced and rehearsed.  
Considering that this poem is probably taught in German kindergartens or maybe primary schools but certainly not to teenagers, which is when you learn a second language at school, I would assume that you spoke German already during your early childhood, which would lead to the deduction that you are a native speaker."  
Mary looked up at him from where she was cuddling her head on his shoulder. "Wrong" she said.  
John stood in front of the bed and looked fascinated at them. He never got used to this: He was still amazed by Sherlocks observational skills and deductions, but Mary's ability to lead him wrong was even more fascinating.  
"If you don't have a German accent speaking English, do you have an accent when speaking German?" John asked.  
"You mean an English one?" Mary asked.  
John nodded. "Let's start with that..."  
"No," Mary answered.  
"Any other accent?" John continued.  
"Not if you are not a speciallist on phonetics"  
"And if you are one?"  
"A good one?"  
"Yes!"  
"Then, yes!"  
"How many languages do you know...?" Sherlock asked, not very happy that there was something about Mary he had never even considered thinking about.  
"On a level that even Sherlock Holmes wouldn't recognise an accent or grammatical insecurities even after years of talking to me on a daily basis, or just in general, being able to have a conversation about this weeks weather?" Mary asked.  
"Both!" Sherlock and John answered at the same time.  
"I don't think I should tell you that" Mary said. "And considering your deduction that you would have to have grown up in a country to know certain children's poems, songs and games: there are situations where you systematically acquire these things to give exactly that impression."  
John and Sherlock both thought about the casualness with which Mary sang English children songs with Rose.  
"But now, John," Mary added. "I'm still cold at my back."  
Sherlock lifted the blanket behind Mary with his right hand, his left arm still wrapped around Mary's shoulders. John took it as the invitation it was and cuddled up behind her. He wrapped his left arm around her and rested his hand on her belly.

They smiled all three when they felt the baby move - Mary inside of her, Sherlock because her belly was pressed against his stomach and John with his hand on her belly.  
"I'm really looking forward to see what a mixture of you two will look like." John said softly.  
"The result of you two is already pretty spectacular!" Sherlock answered. "I hope my addition to this turns out equally delightful!"  
"I'm sure it will!" Mary said. "Im not mixing my DNA with just anybody."  
John felt how he drifted off to sleep. It was warm and cosy under this blanket. There was no better place to be - except maybe the next time when it was his turn to be in the middle.

**Author's Note:**

> I read this poem again last winter after many years. At that time I had just discovered the John/Sherlock/Mary-thing and the poem made me think that it must be one advantage of a ménage à trois, that there is a place in the middle, where it is warm on both sides.
> 
> I imagine that there are little moments, where John and Sherlock (in the series as Mary's friend in my version as her other man) would now notice some of Mary's unusual skills and behaviour that they would have overlooked before they knew about who she used to be.  
> I think even though the decision was, that she wouldn't talk about her past, that they would get a glimpse into her past now and then, but for everybody's protection not a too detailed one.
> 
> Please leave comments!


End file.
